


Trappings

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Meetings, Kylo Ren is Too Extra, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8274500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: When Armitage Hux first sees Leader Snoke's apprentice, he isn't impressed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Huxloween prompt: Halloween fashion

The shuttle landed under a light rain, and Armitage stood at parade rest next to his father, watching the gangplank extend to the ground. He opened an umbrella, and stepped out from under the eave to meet their guests, though it appeared he oughtn’t have bothered with the second umbrella tucked under his arm. Weather seemed to avoid the visitors. A dry void surrounded them, off of which the rain and wind deflected until they reached Armitage’s father, who bowed courteously. Lord Snoke, Armitage had seen before. But, the gawky teenager trudging after him, the picture of sullen misanthropy, was new.

“My apprentice,” Snoke said, gesturing at him. He didn’t offer a name, and the teen nodded stiffly in the Commandant’s direction. Altogether they seemed to be ignoring Armitage but he’d been warned not to let his guard down. Force users, of which he knew Snoke was one which meant his apprentice very likely was another, could invade the mind, poison the thoughts, break the will. He straightened his posture and the Apprentice turned suddenly to look at him. His large eyes seemed to swallow things up, and Armitage tried very hard not to think about anything of import. Unfortunately this left him with only banal, casual observations, like the fact that this Apprentice looked as though he were going to a fancy dress party, as a witch.

The young man’s brows furrowed. Armitage could not tell if he was insulted or not, but his father soon called upon the staff to open the main doors, and the moment was broken. Either the Apprentice had a nervous constitution, or he hadn’t been inside of many homes like this one. He glanced around at everything as if every side table and decorative vase was a potential threat. Neither Snoke nor his apprentice took up the offer to leave anything in the anteroom (cloaks, or whatever you would call the odd getup the Apprentice had slung around his frame), and so they proceeded into the receiving room for tea. On sunny days, rare as they were, this room could be blazingly hot, with the glass dome overhead. But today, it was filled with the sussuration of rain running in a hush down the panes. The tea cart rattled on the tile as one of the house servants asked sweetly how everyone took their tea. This was how Armitage first heard the Apprentice speak.

“Milk. Please,” he said, voice halting and thick. He spoke as if his full lips were heavy. Armitage tried to pay attention to his father’s conversation with Snoke, about finances, advancements at the Academy, better weapons technology. However, he felt the Apprentice staring at him, and was again reminded of the witch tales he looked to have fallen out of. It was a little spooky, looking up and finding those deep eyes, boring into him. It felt as though he was seeking out weak points, and Armitage mentally shored up his defences.

They left their empty cups on the table for the staff to clear away later and proceeded into the east dining room. Its windows looked out into the arboretum, and the light through the shifting branches gave the Apprentice a green cast. Armitage’s father caught the Apprentice looking at the mossy trees, and asked Snoke if his Apprentice should like to see the greenhouse.

“I’m sure Armitage wouldn’t mind showing him there,” he said. Likely it was an attempt to speak with Snoke privately but if Snoke saw through that he didn’t mind it, as he waved at his Apprentice, bade him leave.

Armitage bowed as he left, but the Apprentice didn’t, and Armitage barely withheld a tut. Through the hallways to the greenhouse, the Apprentice was silent, sizing up paintings and chests with the same suspicious glare. When they got to the glass doors leading into to conservatory, Armitage turned.

“It will be quite warm in there. Humid as well. You may wish to remove a layer or two.” Armitage did not plan on stripping off his dress coat, but it was only a fair warning.

“You don’t like my clothes,” the Apprentice replied. What a strange person, Armitage thought. “You think they make me look like a witch. This is no spell,” he said, lifting a hand and bidding the doors to open untouched. “It is nothing so simple. And it cannot be taught. You will never understand.”

This time Armitage scoffed aloud. “There’s no need to be so sensitive,” he answered, waspishly, before striding through the open doors and into the lush green garden. After a pause the Apprentice followed him. He didn’t care what Snoke’s bizarre, overly dramatic apprentice wore. He didn’t care about him at all. Though, he appreciated how the young man fell in step behind him as he strolled between trees and under vines. Perhaps he was less like a witch and more like a familiar, subservient to a greater power than he.


End file.
